


How To: Smile

by Scrib_hneoir



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Time Skips, domestic abuse, implied self harm, mentioned though nothing explicit, mostly in canon, some canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrib_hneoir/pseuds/Scrib_hneoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t know how to deal with Bokuto -- the boy was rambunctious, boisterous, mentally exhausting to be around, and almost borderline annoying.<br/>Yet he offered a strange feeling of relief, for Akaashi, like a breath of fresh air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How To: Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shun_Takei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shun_Takei/gifts).



> [Inspired by Takei's beautiful art like goddamn](http://takei-draws.tumblr.com/post/139525383531/akaashis-life-isnt-full-of-laughter-and).  
> 

When Akaashi woke up at six AM every morning, his Routine started.

(Step one was opening his eyes, blinking away the lingering sleepiness.)

(Step two was sitting up and pushing the covers off himself.)

(Step three was swinging his feet out of bed and standing up, even if the floor was ice cold.)

(Step four was taking off his pajamas.)

(Step five was putting on his school uniform.)

(Step six was gathering his school materials in his bag.)

(Step seven was putting his shoes on.)

(Step eight was walking to the door.)

(Step nine was taking a long, deep breath.)

(Step ten was opening the door.)

It almost felt like too much effort -- and perhaps it was. It took ten steps and fifteen minutes to mentally prepare himself just to walk out of his room. As soon as he did, he had to hold his breath and pray that his brother was still sleeping.

September ninth was no different.

He stepped from his room cautiously, expression not giving away that his heart was beating up his throat. He crept to the bathroom, closing and locking the door quietly behind him.

(Step eleven was to breathe out.)

(Step twelve was to brush his hair and teeth and straighten his tie.)

He pressed his ear to the door and listened. Breathing, footsteps, voices, a slamming door -- he listened for any of these things.

Today he heard none of them.

(Step thirteen was to go downstairs and out the door without breakfast.)

The morning was pale and brisk, a threat of winter rushing down the streets. Akaashi bent his head against the wind, the cold air drying his eyes to keep any tears wanting to fall at bay.

(Step fourteen was to not cry before school.)

He arrived with a crowd of other students at Fukurodani an hour before school started. He walked past everyone with his head down and took his seat at the front of his first class.

He fished his book out of his bag and buried his face in it, eyes barely focusing on the words. The story was something about a dragon and a lonely prince, an old folktale for his history class. He had read the story last night, but he needed something to do before classes started.

(Step fifteen was to not talk to - )

“You’re Akaashi-kun, right?!”

Akaashi jumped, book almost slipping from his hands. He looked up to find a large boy with wild salt-and-pepper hair staring at him with wide, golden eyes. He was kneeling in front of Akaashi’s desk, hands hooking the edge of it like a cat.

“Yes?” he asked, voice barely audible.

The boy jumped to his feet. “I’m Bokuto, second-year class four, and I have a very important question to ask you!” He gestured with grandeur and Akaashi was painfully aware of all the eyes on him.

“C-can we talk later?” Akaashi said, lowering his head. “Class is about to start.”

“Alright, I’ll find you at the lunch then!” Bokuto replied excitedly, all but skipping from the class. Only half the class’s eyes followed him, the rest remaining on Akaashi’s back. He felt like sinking into the floor.

Class started minutes later. Akaashi’s mind was reeling too much to focus on the discussions. He felt like everyone was still staring at him and it took all his will power not to shiver under the imagined gazes.

(Step sixteen was to…)

(Was to what?)

He drifted through his first three classes in a daze, unsure what was entirely going on. His Routine was ruined, broken so quickly by a boisterous upperclassman and a pair of intense, golden eyes.

When lunch came, Akaashi forced a restart to his Routine.

(Step twenty-one was to take his lunch to the roof.)

But there was a crowd, a hallway congestion. He couldn’t get through because of all the people and before he knew it a hand was on his shoulder.

He knew who it was almost immediately, no one’s hand was ever that cold.

“I didn’t see you this morning, Keiji, why don’t we have lunch together?”

(Step twenty-two was…)

(Step twenty-two…)

(Step…)

“I left early,” Akaashi whispered, keeping his head bent, staring at the floor. The hand on his shoulder tightened, turning him around and guiding him towards the third-year’s floor.

“I wanted to walk to school with you, you know,” Akaashi’s older brother said casually, each word a loadstone in Akaashi’s stomach. His appetite was fading fast. “But you were already gone when I got up -- mother was sad, too.”

“S - ” he started, but was cut off by a commotion.

He glanced over his shoulder to see someone shoving their way through the congestion Akaashi had been steered away from.

“AAAKAAASSHHIIIII!” a voice shouted as -- _Bokuto-san?_ \-- leapt from the crowd and barrelled towards Akaashi, full-on tackling him out of his brother’s grasp. “As soon as the lunch bell rang I ran to your classroom but you weren’t there and then I saw you coming this way so I ran after you!” he exclaimed in one breath. He crossed his arms and in a second his demeanor went from exasperation to hilarious, determined professionalism. “I have a proposal for you.”

Akaashi could only look down at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” his brother started, “but Keiji already has plans.”

“It’ll only take a moment, I swear - ”

“ _Sorry_ ,” -- Akaashi felt every nerve stiffen. He knew that voice -- “but Keiji already has plans.”

Akaashi didn’t need to look up, from the disappointment in Bokuto-san’s voice Akaashi could imagine the senior’s expression. “Well, ah, I’ll catch him again when he’s not busy! Alright. Alright, see ya later, Akaashi!”

Akaashi kept his head down.

(Step… twenty-two?)

 

* * *

 

The only time he was guaranteed to be alone was after school, when his brother had club activities and Akaashi did not. Akaashi would be one of the first fifty people to leave school -- those people were always quiet, and Akaashi appreciated that -

“A - KAA - SHI!” a voice shouted behind him as an arm hooked violently around his shoulders, lurching him forward where he almost lost his balance and fell on his face.

“Bokuto-san, I can’t - ”

“No time for that I need you to come with me right now or Kuroo is gonna skin me alive and that is the _last_ thing anyone wants to see except maybe Kemna but dammit he doesn’t matter!”

“Bokuto-san, what are you - ” But he was already being dragged down the street at a fast pace, feet tripping over each other, kept in balance only by Bokuto’s firm grip on his hand.

Akaashi had no idea what was going on -- who was Kuroo? Who was Kenma? Why would Bokuto be skinned alive? That seemed a little violent and melodramatic -- but for some reason… he let himself be brought along.

 

* * *

 

“Fuck, Bokuto is late again.” Kuroo jabbed at the sticky note he was doodling on.

“…What are you drawing?”

“A fence?”

“That’s offensive.”

“You shut - ”

“AAAYYYYY, KUROO!” Bokuto came bounding up the sidewalk dragging a dark haired boy along with him who was almost as pretty Kenma.

(Of course Kenma would kill Kuroo if he ever said that outloud.)

“Heyyy, Bokuto, who’s the tag-along?” Kuroo said with a smirk, leaning on Kenma’s head, who was buried in his DS.

“Akaashi… Keiji, right?” Bokuto replied, turning to his friend.

“Yes,” Akaashi replied. Simple. Blank. Kuroo frowned.

“This is Akaashi Keiji!” Bokuto repeated with familiar energy.

Kenma glanced up from his game to eye Akaashi with his usual, expressionless demeanor.

At least he didn’t look particularly adverse to the presence of the strange, pretty boy.

“Well, are we going? You told me to bring a friend, so I brought friend and here we are! Where are we going?” Bokuto questioned excitedly.

Kuroo smirked and folded his arms. “You brought someone who’s name you don’t even know -- you clearly don’t have many friends.”

Bokuto only stuck his tongue out at Kuroo.

“It’s laser tag,” Kenma said simply.

“ _Really_!?” Bokuto exclaimed over Kuroo’s, “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

Kenma only shrugged.

Kuroo glanced over at Akaashi to see how he was taking the situation.

Either he wasn’t taking it or was just really good at hiding his excitement -- his face had not changed in the past five minutes.

Kuroo had a faint assumption that Akaashi was not excited -- but he didn't look averse to everything, either.

The walk to the laser tag place was an awkward fifteen minutes with Bokuto filling the silence with endless chatter about the school day. Kenma was buried in his game once again and only walked into a stop sign once (which Bokuto didn't let him forget until he himself forgot five minutes later).

Akaashi spoke all of three words during the walk: “Yes,” when Kenma asked if he was a first year, and “Bokuto-san hasn't,” when Kuroo asked “Has Bo told you anything about second-year life?”

The laser tag place was fairly empty for six PM on a Wednesday afternoon, unsurprisingly, though that meant the group had to wait a little over half an hour for more people to join before they could play.

The first round, Kenma, Kuroo, and Akaashi were on a team versus Bokuto and two others, Kindaichi and Kunimi. Kenma’s team won 56-32, and Bokuto complained for the solid ten minutes before round two started. This time Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kindaichi were on a team versus Kenma, Akaashi, and Kunimi -- and at the end Kenma won again, but only 41-38.

Kindaichi and Kunimi left after that, leaving Bokuto to beg the associates to let just the four of them play while Kuroo glowered menacingly behind. Kenma watched Akaashi sigh, slowly starting to piece together the dark-haired boy.

Kenma was the only one getting a solid read on Akaashi’s opinion on everything, but as usual, he only texted his observations in cryptic, one to three word phrases to Kuroo who had since taken to ignoring them.

“Okay, we got round three!” Bokuto shouted victoriously, waving the tickets around. He handed them excitedly to the others before he and Kuroo ushered them back into the laser tag room.

Akaashi and Kenma, having been on the same team the last two rounds, had established a solid plan of attack from a particular perch near a stairway to the upstairs section of the room. Akaashi covered the sides while Kenma sniped from above. When the round ended, Kenma’s team once again won with a vicious score of 44-20.

“Okay, you know what? Everyone versus Kenma, this is totally unfair,” Kuroo complained.

“Totally totally, this is bullshit.”

“Bokuto. Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Screw you.”

Kuroo leaned on Bokuto’s shoulder. “If you insist.”

Bokuto and Kenma’s faces mirrored the same disgust. Akaashi covered his mouth, turning away to -

\- _laugh_?

He chuckled quietly into his hand, ears turning slightly pink, and the others stared in a mix of shock and relief. Kenma remained impassive, but he was glad. Kuroo looked satisfied. Bokuto looked… starstruck.

“Sorry,” he finally stammered, trying hard to re-apply his previous, unreadable expression.

Kuroo didn’t let him, instead throwing his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “Dude, it’s really good to see you smile, almost thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“No, no, I am, sorry, Kuroo-san.”

“Don’t be sorry you wet blanket!” Kuroo scolded, slapping Akaashi hard on the shoulder. “So what do you say, round four?”

“Round four!” Bokuto cheered.

To the side, Kenma sighed.

Kuroo, folding his arms, said assertively, “Kenma and I on one team, Bokuto and Akaashi on the other. That way it stays even.”

“Any team with Kenma on it isn’t even,” Bokuto said dejectedly.

“Even by himself?”

“Even by himself!”

“Bokuto-san, it’s alright,” Akaashi said, “because I know how Kenma will set up his attack.”

Bokuto stared at him hard for a moment before a huge smile broke out over his face. “YES!”

And fives minutes later, the game began.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t know how to deal with Bokuto -- the boy was rambunctious, boisterous, mentally exhausting to be around, and almost borderline annoying.

Yet he offered a strange feeling of relief, for Akaashi, like a breath of fresh air.

Still, he found himself grasping at some familiar feelings that refused to surface -- that sense of drowning, that lack of emotion, the stability of his Routine that had not failed him for most of his life.

A Routine so easily broken by one, loud boy.

“Okay, so what’s the plan of attack?” Bokuto asked in a hushed, excited whisper.

Akaashi let the laser gun dangle from two fingers. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san, but I don’t think we should insinuate anything this round… Kenma looked pretty tired.”

Bokuto stared at him with wide, golden eyes for a long moment, and Akaashi began to panic, thinking he had hurt the other’s feeling and he would be ignored and hated for the rest of -

“You’re pretty wise, you know that?”

Akaashi’s eyes widened.

Bokuto turned away to peer around the corner where the sweeping, green laser lights briefly illuminated his salt-and-pepper hair at random intervals.

“Usually Kuroo has to tell me when Kenma is, well, done with the day -- but I guess today is different because Kuroo never said anything so I assumed Kenma was okay and all. I feel bad for pushing him, now.”

“Oh, then…” Akaashi started, paused, and unsure of what to say, amended, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Bokuto turned to him and smiled -- a smile that looked like it could make flowers grow. “I really appreciate you letting me know about Kenma.”

 

* * *

 

The final round ended in a, predictably, 0-0 tie. When they all emerged from the room, Kuroo and Kenma were deep in a conversation about a Kingdom Hearts game, and Bokuto was off on a tangent about what being a second-year was like to Akaashi. Kuroo covered the cost of the four games himself, and once they were all outside in the fresh, night air, Kuroo stopped the group as he dug through his wallet.

“Gods help me if I lost it…” he muttered to himself, the others watching curiously, before he withdrew a silver and blue card. He held it out to Bokuto. “It’s to your favorite yakiniku place in Akihabara, 3000 yen.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened and he looked like he might cry from joy. “Kuroo…” was all he managed to say.

Kuroo only gave a crooked smirk. “Just for you, Bo.”

Kenma silently held out a similar card.

“I got you the same thing.”

“You guys are too good to me!” Bokuto exclaimed, leaping forward to bear-hug his friends, Kuroo taking most of the force to keep Kenma on his feet.

Akaashi stood to the side awkwardly, wondering why they were giving Bokuto gifts and why he _didn’t_ have a gift to give -- not that he would have known what to get anyway.

When Bokuto let his friends go, Akaashi put a hand on his neck and looked down awkwardly. “Sorry, Bokuto-san, I don’t have anything to give you. Though I’m not sure why, anyway…”

“You didn’t tell him it was your birthday?” Kuroo scoffed. “Wow. What a terrible human being.”

“Human bean?”

“I said ‘human being’!”

“Actually,” Bokuto started, turning a smile to Akaashi that made Akaashi nervous, “there is _something_ you could do for me -- as gift, ya know?”

Akaashi kept his face passive despite the thoughts spiraling through his head.

Bokuto took on a more formal stance, like the one from earlier in the day. “Akaashi Keiji, would you - ”

He was cut off by a phone ringing. Feeling his pocket vibrate, Akaashi quickly withdrew his phone and answered it without even looking at the number -- he knew who it was.

“Hi, I’m sorry, I’m on my way home.”

 _“You better be, Keiji, you had me worried sick. I thought we_ talked _about this,”_ his brother chided.

He felt his stomach twist. “Yes, I’m sorry, I’m on my way home now.”

_“We’ll talk about this later, and after you better do your homework.”_

“Of course, nii-san.”

He waited until his brother hung up first before turning eyes to Bokuto and the others. “I’m very sorry, but I have to go home now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Kuroo-san, Kenma-san,” he said, bowing to the two before turning to Bokuto. “I’m sincerely sorry, but can you ask me this question another time?”

Bokuto looked confused and about to resist, but Kuroo kicked him in the back of the knee. “Yeah, we get it, family obligations and all that,” he said with a kind smile. “Bo will find you tomorrow, then.”

“Y-yeah, yeah! Promise!” Bokuto agreed hurriedly. “Hurry home then, I guess. Oh, wait!” He dug through his pockets, throwing some candy wrappers and erasers to the ground, before extracting his phone. “Let me give you my number real quick -- so we can do this again!”

Akaashi held out his phone and they transfered numbers, much to Bokuto’s enjoyment who had never done it like that before.

Once finished, Akaashi nodded respectfully before turning and walking towards his home.

 

* * *

 

It had been a long time since the last time he was alone at night. At this time he was usually home eating dinner with his brother and mother -- if his mother was even home, that was. She was often rescheduled for late-night and graveyard shifts at the hospital, so most of the time it was just Akaashi and his brother at the house.

As he walked, his footsteps started to drag, and he started acknowledging the feeling that he didn’t want to go home. His body still ached from all but being thrown down the stairs a couple nights ago, and with what he had pulled today, he doubted his brother would be so forgiving.

Crossing the street near a park, he stood in the center of the road for a couple minutes.

(Step sixty-one was to try not to get hit by a car.)

When he crossed the road, he walked towards the swings and, dropping his bag to the ground, sat down on one of them and gently rocked back and forth.

(Step sixty-five was to go home.)

(Maybe he shouldn’t go home.)

When he felt the first tear fall, he flipped open his phone before he realized.

“Bokuto… Koutarou, huh?”

 

* * *

 

The next day, Akaashi was passing by the notice board when a particularly bright poster caught his eye. It displayed in bold, black and gold lettering: **COME JOIN THE VOLLEYBALL TEAM**. He was sure he had never seen the poster before, but he wasn’t surprised it was up now -- rumor had it several students had left clubs due to some drug bust on the other side of town. Alongside the volleyball poster were ones for basketball and tennis, too.

It met almost after school every day, even weekends. He decided he could forge his mom’s signature well enough -- she wouldn’t question it anyway, and Akaashi supposed that if it kept him away from home longer neither would mind.

He had always liked the idea of volleyball anyway.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto never found him that day, even though he had promised.

 

* * *

 

When Akaashi walked into the gym after school, he was surprised to find Bokuto there.

Or maybe he wasn’t surprised at all.

“ _Akaashi_?!” Bokuto exclaimed, spotting him almost immediately and running over, almost tripping over himself in his rush. “What are you doing here? Are you part of the volleyball team? Scouting? What’s up what’s up?”

“I, um, was thinking of joining, if it isn’t a problem.”

“It’s the opposite of a problem! Come on, let’s go find the captain and get you set up!”

 

* * *

 

“So you joined the volleyball team?”

It was just the two of them at dinner, some time later.

“Yes.”

“I thought you didn’t like sports.”

Akaashi shrugged and ate some more rice.

The next day he had to explain to everyone how he had opened his front door in his face.

 

* * *

 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto barrelled down the hallway and flung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “What did you think of the practice match yesterday? I was awesome, wasn’t I?”

“You missed five out of twelve sets, Bokuto-san.”

“Argh, I’m just not very good with that setter. I like it when you set to me, Akaashi! I wish you were on the starting lineup.”

“Probably not this semester since I’m still new, but the coach talked to me the other day after practice. He thinks that after the holidays I might be on the starting lineup.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” Bokuto shouted, leaping into the air as he cheered. A lot of people looked at him, but he didn’t seem to mind. Akaashi wished he could feel the same.

“By the way,” Bokuto started, “I was wondering - ”

“Kuroo-san texted me, it’s about laser tag tonight, right?”

“Ah, that tricky bastard,” Bokuto said with a fond smile. “Don’t worry, Akaashi, I’ll beat you to a question someday. But are you down for it?”

Akaashi thought of home. He thought of his brother. His shoulders ached.

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

“Victory is ours at long last!” Bokuto exclaimed, emerging from the laser tag room, waving the gun around wildly, causing the attendant to tell him to calm down.

Bokuto and Kuroo had, finally, beaten Kenma and Akaashi by 31-30, mostly a fluke thanks to Akaashi’s aching shoulders and inability to aim, but he didn’t want to dampen Bokuto’s mood.

“Another round?” Kuroo suggested.

“I have homework, Tetsurou,” Kenma said quietly, pouting. Kuroo sighed but conceded.

They left the building and Kuroo insisted Kenma go with him to the convenience store to pick up snacks. Bokuto waved and turned to head home, but Akaashi’s hand shot out to catch his sleeve.

“Actually… Bokuto-san…” he began slowly, “could… could I spend the night at your place?”

Bokuto stared at him and Akaashi began to panic. Would he ask questions? Would he pry? Would he have to ask permission? Would he say no?

“Sure! That’d be awesome!”

 

* * *

 

Bokuto’s mother explained that he brought Kuroo and Kenma over all time, and sometimes other friends as well, though usually only Kuroo and occasionally Kenma spent the night. Nonetheless, Akaashi was, of course, welcome to come over whenever he pleased, even if Bokuto wasn’t there.

“He talks about you a lot, you know,” she said when Bokuto was out of the room. “He really appreciates you on the volleyball team -- he wanted to ask you to join himself after seeing your track record in middle-school, but you beat him too it.”

After a simple dinner of lively chatter, Bokuto was ordered to use the bathroom first since he smelled like a wet dog -- being an ace was a lot more physically demanding than being a setter. Akaashi was guided to wait in Bokuto’s room until the bath was free.

Bokuto’s room was filled with volleyball things, clothes, a pillow was on the floor, and was otherwise basically destroyed. Akaashi cleared a place on the floor and sat down with his back resting against the bed.

The room was warm.

It was welcoming.

But when Akaashi’s phone rang everything froze.

He stared at it for as long as it rang, fingers shaking. When it stopped, he didn’t relax. A minute later the tone cut through the air again, and Akaashi answered it.

 _“Where the_ fuck _are you, you little shit!”_ his brother exploded from the other end. _“You were supposed to be home hours ago so why aren’t you here?!”_

Akaashi couldn’t find any words.

_“Silence will get you nowhere, bastard, tell me where you are right now and I’ll come get you!”_

Akaashi pressed his lips together.

_“Don’t play this game with me, Keiji, you don’t want to see me angry - ”_

(But when was he not angry?)

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Akaashi, the bath’s - ” Bokuto stopped in his tracks, hovering in the doorway, taking in Akaashi shaking and muffling tears behind his hand. His phone lay broken in half beside him.

He wasn’t just crying, Bokuto quickly realized, he was wailing. The shaking turned into fierce shuddering as if his body were physically rejecting an emotion.

Bokuto dropped his old clothes and towel and rushed over, falling to his knees beside the younger boy. Bokuto didn’t know what to do -- Hug him? Get his mom? Make some tea?

“I…” Akaashi choked out, bringing Bokuto back from his thoughts. “I have to go. Home.”

It sounded like the last thing he wanted to do.

“No way, man, you can spend the night, really, it’s no trouble,” Bokuto insisted.

“I… I really should head home,” Akaashi said, making to stand, but Bokuto pulled him back down. Akaashi didn’t resist. He fell into something of a heap on Bokuto’s legs, sobbing.

Bokuto didn’t know what to do.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi sometimes wished his world was as full of laughter as Bokuto’s.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto helped Akaashi to the bath, though he let Akaashi undress himself. Once he was in the bath Bokuto entered and sat on the stool to make sure Akaashi didn’t pass out and drown or something.

That was how he found the bruises and scars.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi couldn’t stay at Bokuto’s place forever, which tore Bokuto apart, but when the holidays came and a volleyball training camp started, Akaashi spent every night at Bokuto’s. Bokuto did everything he could to make Akaashi laugh, though Akaashi always saw through the jokes and puns -- but he mustered a chuckle anyway.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto didn’t know what to do. When he asked Kuroo -- “Hypothetically, if a friend was in an abusive relationship, what would you do?” -- Kuroo insisted Bokuto talk to school counseling.

 

* * *

 

The week following nationals -- Bokuto’s second time, Akaashi’s first -- Akaashi’s brother moved to live with his grandparents. It came to light that he personally hated Akaashi for being smarter, prettier, and generally better at most things than him.

Akaashi didn’t know how to handle the change, and his mind wandered for most of the days following. He stared into blank space, and it often took several calls of his name to bring him back.

“It’s post-depression,” Kuroo explained to Bokuto, who was completely ignorant of such things. “Someone who was a huge part of his life for so long is suddenly gone -- it’s a lot for most people, even if the relationship wasn’t really… _good_. He’ll come around.”

 

* * *

 

“Akaashi! Guess what guess what!”

“What, Bokuto-san?”

“I’m the captain of Fukurodani this year!” He was practically sparkling.

Akaashi gave a small smile. “That’s great, Bokuto-san.”

“And, as you know, great power comes with great responsibility, I want _you_ ” -- he dramatically pointed at Akaashi, drawing all eyes in the hallway to him -- “to be my vice captain!”

(Akaashi was starting to not mind the gazes so much.)

 

* * *

 

“Akaashi… I…”

Bokuto and Akaashi were alone in the locker room. The roaring crowd could be heard outside. The team had gone to do warm ups, leaving their captain and vice captain to sort out a plan.

A plan to beat Nekoma.

“I don’t want to do this,” Bokuto whispered, hoarse, tightening his fists. Sweat was stained with tears.

Akaashi looked down. “I… I don’t want to either.” He walked forward and put a hand on Bokuto’s back, glad Bokuto was facing away so he didn’t see Akaashi’s red face. “But this is still a game, Kuroo’s probably going through the same thing. No matter the outcome, we’ll all get yakisoba afterwards and laugh about how bad Lev is and how emotional you are and bored Kenma was. Nothing outside _this_ will change.”

Bokuto reached over his back and gripped Akaashi’s hand, though he didn’t turn to look at him. “You’re always two steps ahead of me, Akaashi.”

Akaashi bit his lip. _Not this time, Bokuto-san. This time I’m far behind._

_Love never puts you in first place._

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Wataru-kun.”

“Oh hey, what’s up Akaashi-san? Enjoying being a third-year?”

“Ah, yes. Look, there’s something… I want your opinion on…”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Is professing your love on Valentine’s Day too cliche?”

 

* * *

 

_hey kenma_

_yeah?_

_do you know how to make chocolates? like the homemade kind_

_no_

_oh… want to try?_

 

* * *

 

“Bokuto-san?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

It was Valentine's Day and a saturday. Bokuto, now a first year university student, had taken the afternoon off from studying because Akaashi had wanted to see him. They leaned against a railing overlooking a pretty pond in Tokyo. Akaashi reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, pink bag.

“Kenma-kun helped me make chocolates and… these ones are for you.”

Bokuto didn’t know what to say. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, constricting his throat. He watched, stunned, as Akaashi passed the chocolates from his hands to Bokuto’s.

“And… also… this…” Akaashi leaned forward, hesitated, then brought their lips together.

Bokuto’s internal monologue was nothing by screams of joy.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi always beat him to the questions.

 

* * *

 

They went to different universities for Akaashi’s first year, but Akaashi ended up transferring to Bokuto’s college because it offered better education for his major, psychology.

A year later Akaashi had to drop out because he couldn’t afford it.

Bokuto visited him every weekend, and Akaashi attended all of Bokuto’s volleyball matches.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi still broke down sometimes when he saw the scars on his back and arms -- some caused by his brother, others caused by himself. He still cried alone at two AM after a stressful day at work. He would text Bokuto, and Bokuto would give him steps.

Bokuto helped him build a new Routine.

 

* * *

 

(Step one was to count three things he was thankful for.)

(Step two was text Bokuto. Right away. No questions.)

(Step three was to make sure he had taken his medication for the day.)

(Step four was to listen some calming music. Like F.U.N.)

(Step five was to drink water and stay hydrated. Super important.)

 

* * *

 

_since we’re in the same area, want to rent an apartment together?_

_!!!!!!!_

_I’ll take that as a yes_

Bokuto couldn’t stop grinning for days.

“Akaashi asked me to move in with him,” he boasted to Kuroo over the phone.

 _“Of course_ he _asked.”_

“Shut up!”

 

* * *

 

When Bokuto was in his post-graduate program, staying in the labs overnight to finish homework, Akaashi texted asking:

_do you love me?_

Bokuto smirked and replied:

_of course!!_

Bokuto made plans to finally beat Akaashi to a question.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto’s first time was also Akaashi’s first time, and neither of them knew what they were doing. Bokuto claimed he had done research, Akaashi argued videos didn’t count as research.

After half an hour of experiments leading nowhere except a bruised knee on Bokuto’s part, they called Kuroo and made him give them directions on how to bake a cake.

 _“You useless fools,”_ Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh.

 

* * *

 

Akaashi lead the first time they had sex. He guided Bokuto the entire time, into him, out of him, and taking care of him afterwards.

“Brew the tea for three minutes, then soak the washcloth in it for five, but remember to take the pot off the stove.”

“Well, as long as it’s aftercare for you I suppose I can try not to burn water.”

Later, Bokuto learned how to lead. He was really excited about it.

Akaashi decided sex with Bokuto was, if described in one word, fun.

 

* * *

 

“Kuroo, you can’t make fun of this! This is serious!” Bokuto whined.

“Dude, you need to calm down, you’re overthinking this.”

“I’m not thinking enough!”

“Seriously? You know he’d be fine with anything! Hell you could ask while doing some freaky BDSM shit.”

“ _Fuck no_!”

Kuroo laughed. More like cackled.

The shopkeeper told them to shut up.

 

* * *

 

It had been a rough day. His brother had called. He had been forced to sit through a thirty minutes conversation with his brother, who continuously made passive-aggressive remarks about him not going to college, him having to drop out, him having to work some shitty part-time at a store just to do something with his life.

Akaashi started to remember the times he couldn’t smile. He remembered his old Routine.

(Step sixty-one was to try not to get hit by a car.)

(It made it hard to pass the street.)

When he got home, he found a trail of sticky notes in Bokuto’s familiar handwriting.

**_How To: Smile_ **

**_step one  
_** **_think about when we first met_ **

It was stuck to the lamp. Akaashi picked it up, confused.

**_step two  
_** **_think about our first kiss_ **

This one was on the calendar on the wall. Akaashi remembered Valentine’s Day and being a somewhat lonely third year, wishing Bokuto was around more.

**_step three  
_** **_think about the first time I saw you cry_ **

Bokuto’s home. After laser tag. When Bokuto had found out about everything. This sticky note was stuck to a mug filled with soapy water, as if Bokuto had grabbed it straight out of the overflowing sink.

**_step four  
_** **_think about the question I’m going to ask_ **

They lead to the living room. There, Bokuto stood in a fancy suit -- awkward, fumbling, blushing -- holding a small box with another sticky note that said **_step five_**.

“Bokuto-san, what is - ?” Akaashi started, but Bokuto’s smile broke him off.

“Akaashi,” he started, and Akaashi felt an excitement stirring in his stomach. “I love you. A lot. And I want to know how your mind thinks, with the steps and all, so I tried this. And if it doesn’t work, I’ll try again. Again and again until I complete all the steps to you.”

He took a deep breath and walked forward. Akaashi watched in shock as Bokuto lowered himself to one knee and opened the little box to reveal a little, glimmering ring.

“And as much as I want that, I also want to be a step ahead of you -- just this once.”

“Bo… Koutarou…” Akaashi breathed.

“Will you marry me, Akaashi Keiji?”

Akaashi smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U FOR UR TIME I HOPE U ENJOYED :D  
> additional inspiration came from the songs [Just Give Me a Reason](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpQFFLBMEPI) by P!nk and [Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_9l0FqjfGQ) by Savant.  
> look I can write happy (this is pointed at you people who've read my other things :p)


	2. what hurts below the skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to expand the scene where Bokuto first finds Akaashi’s scars.

> “Hey, Akaashi, the bath’s - ” Bokuto stopped in his tracks, hovering in the doorway, taking in Akaashi shaking and muffling tears behind his hand. His phone lay broken in half beside him.
> 
> He wasn’t just crying, Bokuto quickly realized, he was wailing. The shaking turned into fierce shuddering as if his body were physically rejecting an emotion.
> 
> Bokuto dropped his old clothes and towel and rushed over, falling to his knees beside the younger boy. Bokuto didn’t know what to do -- Hug him? Get his mom? Make some tea?
> 
> “I…” Akaashi choked out, bringing Bokuto back from his thoughts. “I have to go. Home.”
> 
> It sounded like the last thing he wanted to do.
> 
> “No way, man, you can spend the night, really, it’s no trouble,” Bokuto insisted.
> 
> “I… I really should head home,” Akaashi said, making to stand, but Bokuto pulled him back down. Akaashi didn’t resist. He fell into something of a heap on Bokuto’s legs, sobbing.
> 
> Bokuto didn’t know what to do.

 

Bokuto had always thought Akaashi looked strong — physically, that is. Akaashi’s body radiated discipline from the way he walked to the way he tossed the volleyball. He was the perfect setter, in Bokuto’s eyes, because Akaashi’s body was honed and controlled to do exactly as Akaashi wanted.

That was what Bokuto thought, and he had never been more heartbroken to be proven wrong.

Akaashi was limp like rag doll, barely standing without Bokuto’s support. After he had stopped crying, Akaashi had gone very very quiet, and that scared Bokuto, because Bokuto didn’t know what to do. So he all but carried Akaashi to the bathroom, telling him gently to remove his clothes and get in the water — Bokuto’s mother wouldn’t let Akaashi sleep without a bath first, and Akaashi was nothing if not tired.

Bokuto respectfully turned his back and waited for the splash of water that was Akaashi getting into the tub. It took a while, with a few groans of pain from Akaashi that made Bokuto bite the inside of his cheek, but he was patient. Once Akaashi was in the water, Bokuto turned around.

Nothing was immediately obvious. Akaashi had sunk down to his chin, his head turned away from Bokuto. Akaashi had pulled his legs to his chest with his arms around them, huddling to one side as if afraid to take up too much space. Bokuto could still spot the bags under Akaashi’s eyes, and worried that Akaashi might pass out and drown, Bokuto took a seat beside the tub.

“Hope you don’t mind me being here, I’m just…” He stopped, glancing around as if the right words to say in this situation would present themselves in the steam on the walls. They didn’t. Bokuto had so many questions about what had happened back in his room — the phone, the crying, the need to go home — but it wasn’t his place to ask them. At least not yet. “I’ll wash your hair for you at least, you totally stink from practice.”

Akaashi didn’t agree, but he didn’t resist either when Bokuto started cupping water over Akaashi’s head. Akaashi closed his eyes and leaned further into the water, pointedly turned away from Bokuto. Akaashi’s hands came around over his shoulders as if he were holding himself together by threads.

Bokuto moved slowly, consciously careful of whatever fragile state Akaashi was in, and only paused again when his fingers hit a large bump on Akaashi’s head and Akaashi cried out softly in pain.

Bokuto withdrew his hands and stared, trying to figure out when Akaashi had taken such a fall that would cause such a huge bump. It was probably enough to give Akaashi a headache even.

“Akaashi, you…?”

Bokuto realized Akaashi was trembling, droplets of water falling from his hair in clumps. He had leaned forward as if make the distance between himself and Bokuto larger, but all it did was show Bokuto part of his back.

Bruised. It was bruised like stormy sky. Everything from gruesome blossoms of purple to red welts on top of them. The bruises were a waterfall from his shoulder blades and downward, disappearing below the water where they may or may not have trickled to nothing. Bokuto could only stare for a long time, as if he could figure an explanation himself. The only plausible answer was a volleyball accident, but in that case Bokuto would have known. He would have _known_.

Akaashi carried himself without a hint of anything his body was painted with. He had disciplined his body to not show the pain that was hidden there.

Akaashi finally registered Bokuto’s silence. He glanced over his shoulder and one look at Bokuto’s face revealed that Bokuto had seen everything — had seen what Akaashi had never wanted him to see. Akaashi jerked back around in the water, pushing himself away from Bokuto with a look of pure panic and regret. It finally snapped Bokuto back to his senses.

“Akaashi you… need to treat those,” Bokuto said, the words almost sounding fake to his own ears. “It’s… You’re…” He lowered his hands and then his eyes. “I’m sorry, Akaashi. I can’t… I don’t know what to say.” When he looked back up, he found Akaashi’s eyes downcast. “Let me rinse your hair, then you can get dressed, okay?”

Akaashi said nothing, but he did nod. Slowly, he turned his back once more to Bokuto who slowly rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. As Bokuto worked, he made note of every bruise and scar he saw on Akaashi’s skin — which was most of it. Whatever wasn’t covered by clothing appeared to be subject to multiple wounds.

Most of them appeared random, but some were too… neatly aligned. Bokuto couldn’t think of a better way to word it.

When he got Akaashi back to his room and settled him down on the bed, Akaashi’s eyes were drooping more from emotional exhaustion than anything else. Bokuto willingly gave up his own place of respite for Akaashi, who needed it so much more.

After that, Bokuto wandered downstairs where he found his mother just finishing cleaning up the kitchen. She at first smiled at him, then registered his haunted expression, and then quickly came forward to wrap him up in a hug.

“Koutarou, what’s wrong? Did something happen with Akaashi-san?” she asked softly.

“M-mom? Wh… what… what do I do if a friend is hurting?” Bokuto asked, feeling blank but also feeling incredibly sad. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or not.

His mother hugged him tighter. When she spoke again, her voice sounded heavy, as if she understood without asking more. “If you know the problem itself is out of your control,” she began, “then you just need to be there for him. Be his friend.”

“Be… his friend,” Bokuto weakly repeated. “I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you all keep finding this fic and leaving such lovely comments so naturally I've been thinking about it and.....  
> I hope you read this with the mind knowing Akaashi is okay in the end. Just... this particularly scene I felt was more important to Bokuto's reaction.  
> I hope you enjoyed ^^


End file.
